Death of a Scoundrel (1956)
Directed by Charles Martin

Film Review

By all accounts Serge Rubenstein was a nasty piece of work, a ruthlessly corrupt financier who exploited and abused anyone who put their trust in him, somehow amassing a fortune by exercising his limitless guile and charm before someone took the law into their own hands and murdered him.  Death of a Scoundrel offers a fictionalised account of Rubenstein's life that tries a little too hard to humanise the demonic criminal, its writers apparently unwilling to concede for one moment that Rubenstein was merely an evil man who was motivated purely by greed.  A companion piece to Edgar G. Ulmer's Ruthless (1948), which tells a virtually identical story, the film falls flat as a credible biography but it serves admirably as a wry commentary on the hollowness of the American dream.

Our interest in the plodding, overly repetitive narrative is sustained almost entirely by the compelling central performance from George Sanders, the actor best suited to play the villainous anti-hero.  Sanders had, over the past decade, made a career for himself by playing cads of all persuasion, from cheating lovers to Nazi fanatics, always managing to bring depth and colour to his character portrayals.  Sanders' performance in Death of a Scoundrel may not be his finest but it is one his most entertaining as his part allows him to be both an outright bounder and also a man inwardly conflicted by a guilty past he can never escape.  Compare the humorous scene in which Sanders' character (Sabourin) feigns contrition in a desperate attempt to save his skin with the one near the end of the film when he tries, in vain, to mend his bridges with his estranged mother, a moment of heart-breaking poignancy.  This is only one of two films in which Sanders appeared with his older brother Tom Conway - the other being The Falcon's Brother (1942).

With George Sanders dominating virtually scene in the film, you can't help wondering why the producers bothered throwing in such charismatic actresses as Zsa Zsa Gabor and Yvonne De Carlo.  Gabor may be as radiant as ever but she is almost surplus to requirements, with De Carlo taking whatever slivers of limelight Sanders neglects to steal for himself.  Competently directed by Charles Martin and attractively photographed, Death of a Scoundrel is a highly satisfying entertainment that just manages to avoid being sluggish, although its two hour run time seems like an over-indulgence for such a slight and predictable story.  Still, it's an enjoyable mix of satire and melodrama - definitely a film that no George Sanders fan should miss.

Film Synopsis

Clementi Sabourin, a prominent businessman, is found dead at his home. Bridget Kelly, probably the only person who understood him, relates everything she knows about her dead employer to the police.  The story begins in Nazi occupied France, when Sabourin, a Czech refugee, betrayed his brother to the police after discovering he had married the love of his life, Zina.  Sabourin leaves for America, where he hopes to make his fortune through ruthless cunning.  With a stolen cheque, he invests 20,000 dollars in stock whose share price he knows is about to skyrocket.  Sure enough, Sabourin quickly pockets a huge sum of money, and he uses this to set up his own company, fleecing investors to make himself even richer.  Along the way, he uses his charms to seduce and manipulate women, ready to discard them when they cease to be of value to him.  Within no time, Sabourin finds he has an army of enemies who are eager to see his downfall, but which of them fired the bullet that killed him...?